


Hannigram Tumblr Prompts

by kelex



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4980400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says on the tin.  Tumblr writing prompts, Hannigram.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tedious Pursuit

promptsonpaper: _"The tedious pursuit of something he might want pales in comparison to what he already knows he needs."_

The tedious pursuit of something he might want pales in comparison to what he already knows he needs. If he has learned anything from Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham has learned how to read himself. It's relatively simple; he just has to close his eyes and imagine that he is Hannibal-- _this is my design. I am a psychiatrist, and I am a murderer. I know what I want, and I am not afraid. People are meat to me, and their minds are my toys._ And suddenly, he is in Hannibal's mind, and he is content there.

It should frighten him how easy it is to slide in and out of Hannibal's mind, but he begins to wear it like a skin. When he is alone, he is _not_ alone. Hannibal's voice echoes in his mind. When he is not alone, he wears Hannibal like a Hannibal suit, and he finds it harder and harder to consider the thoughts, feelings, and opinions of others.

He knows that his Hannibal suit is incomplete; there are parts of Hannibal everyone has seen, there are parts of Hannibal that only Will has seen, and he knows that there are parts of Hannibal that no one has ever seen. They're chinks in the armor, but the armor's still strong enough to protect him. 

It protects him from Molly and Walter, when they want to go back home and both of them blame him. It makes it easier for him to walk away. It protects him from Jack, when Jack wants to use him and Chilton as bait for the Red Dragon. It's funny how it protects him from Frederick; Will takes exactly none of the blame, but reaps the rewards.

Always, it's Hannibal's voice in his head.

It protects him from Jack and Alana, when they can't believe when he suggests that Hannibal Lecter might be the best bait; he uses it as a shield when they want to refuse, and it is Hannibal's whispers that guide him to the right words to convince them that Hannibal's escape is the only way.

It's possible he's becoming Hannibal, and those words echo. _This is my becoming. This is who I was meant to be._ But it isn't _just_ Hannibal's voice saying those words; Will's voice is there, just as strong and insistent. There's a darker note to it, and he almost doesn't recognize it because it has been so long since there was any voice but Hannibal's in his head. 

_I have become,_ is Will's last cogent thought as he stands to the side, watching Hannibal bleed and the Dragon preen. _This is who I am._

The wineglass hits the paving stones, and he reaches for the gun tucked into his waistband.

End  
 


	2. A Throne of Blood and Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> betterprompts: "The fountain had been saturated with red, lapping at the marble edges. I sank down to my knees, dropped my hands into the bloody water, trying to bite back tears." PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS IN THE CHAPTER NOTES.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A MULTITUDE OF TRIGGER WARNINGS ON THIS ONE**  
>  _VIOLENCE_  
>  _MURDER_  
>  _SUICIDE_  
>  _MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS_  
>  Beware, beware, be a very wary bear

_betterprompts: The fountain had been saturated with red, lapping at the marble edges. I sank down to my knees, dropped my hands into the bloody water, trying to bite back tears._

I had to hold myself together; I was hunting. My husband was already gone, taken from me by the very people whom I was now chasing. Without him, the glory and the beauty were gone; he was the light that gave our work meaning.

Familiar faces drifted by in the fountain, and I shoved them down, weighting the sodden flesh with bone and debris. I could not stand them looking at me while I gathered my courage for the final strike.

With his face fixed in my mind, I rose to my feet. I drew strength from my beloved's voice, whispering in my thoughts.

_This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us._

He will never speak again; my quarry has seen to that. But my voice screams for both of us as I plunge the knife into Jack Crawford's neck. His bullet ended Hannibal's life--my life.

Now I finish Hannibal's work and end Jack's.

I stand alone in a field of blood and I can do nothing but scream. The tears come now, and I am alone.

Jack's gun lies at his fingertips, like a last gift from the man I once considered my friend. I scoop it up eagerly, finding symmetry in the idea. I will see Hannibal soon, and he will be perched on a throne of blood and bones. I will go to him and he will welcome me to hell, but it will be heaven in his arms once again.

The recoil echoes over the field of the dead.

End


	3. Hannibal Talks Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> celestialparadigm  
> Will dirty talking is my weakness but the moment Hannibal opens his mouth to spew shit about how nice and tight Will is, I’m casually sauntering towards my grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M/M, NC-17 EXPLICIT

With Will tied up over Hannibal's desk, Hannibal's mind went to increasingly dirty places. “Did you know that no matter how many times I see you like this, it is more beautiful than the last." He trailed his fingertips over Will's back, just to see his muscles jump and twitch. " It never stops amazing me how easily you open yourself to me."

Will's wrists and ankles were tied to the desk legs, keeping his body spread - eagle over the desk calendar. His lips were stretched around a red ball gag, and his eyes were blindfolded with a swatch of red velvet. 

Hannibal continued his monologue. "And no matter how many times I touch you, it's always the first time." His hands stroked over Will's ass, relishing the sight of the tiny surprised jump. "Always so hot, and so tight, William." He lubricated his fingers liberally, careful not to drip on his clothes. "I know, before I touch you, that you are going to be tight." As he spoke, he worked one finger inside Will's opening. "You see? So tight and hungry, I can barely fit in." He stroked deeper, feeling the clench of hungry need around his finger.

Will was keening softly behind the gag, trying to roll his hips back onto Hannibal's teasing digits.

Hannibal wouldn't let him move, but he did add a second finger. Always working, always stretching. "When I am buried inside you, your body welcomes me with every thrust, and clings like it cannot bear to release me for even a moment. Would you be able to stand it if I filled you constantly? Kept you plugged, kept you stretched for me at a moment's notice? Knowing that any time I come to you, you're ready for my cock?" All the while, Hannibal's fingers slid into and out of Will's slick hole.

Will could barely breathe, couldn't speak at all, but he was imagining. Standing at a crime scene, and all of a sudden Hannibal is there. His opening clenches around Hannibal's fingers as he imagined squeezing the plug inserted by Hannibal that morning. He moans as he thinks about focusing on the job while knowing that he is already ready for Hannibal's cock. He rolled his hips back as he thought of the car ride back, with Will on his knees in the back seat begging for Hannibal. 

Hannibal was certain he had a very good idea what Will was fantasizing, and kept his fingers busy. "Just think. Talking to uncle Jack, with my hand on your shoulder to let you know I know you are hard and stretched. Excusing ourselves to a quiet place and feeling my cock replace the plug while I ride you. Then plug you again when you are done, so when you come to my office, you are starved for me."

Will's moans started getting desperate, and he tried to buck himself against the desk. "Sssh, my William, I would not let you suffer too long." Hannibal's free hand stroked Will's hair, down his back. The sound of Hannibal's zipper was loud in the silence, but was drowned by the knocking at the door. 

A note of real panic made Will twist harder, but Hannibal landed a loud slap on his ass. "Just a moment, please," he called. From the bottom drawer of his desk, he took a red jewel tipped chrome plug and slipped it into Will. 

Leaving him tied to the desk, Hannibal cracked the door. "May I help you?"

Will could not hear what was being said, but then Hannibal spoke again. "I'm sorry, but that would not be convenient. I have my husband tied up at the moment, he gets ever so cross when we're interrupted."

Will was mortified, even more by the fact that his bound cock throbbed. He heard masculine laughter fading, and Hannibal nodded. "Yes, tomorrow is much more convenient."

With the door closed and locked, Hannibal returned to Will, and left the plug in. "Shame that Nigel couldn't come in. He had to get back home; his lover is on the autism spectrum and was hoping for a consult." His hands drifted over Will's skin. "What would he say if he saw my beautiful husband?" Hannibal asked, almost musingly.

"Do you think he'd have wanted to touch your skin? His hands were calloused; his rough hands stroking you, feeling how strong you are, even bound like this." Hannibal's touch followed his words. "Rubbing over your hips, pulling you back against him to see how his hard cock feels against your ass."

Will rose to his tiptoes, trying to press against Hannibal's cock. 

"He'd want to feel you, when he saw this." Hannibal rocked the plug in Will's ass. "He'd ease it out and push those rough fingers in to feel how tight you are, even after this." Hannibal licked his lips. "And then, my dearest, I would have to kill him."

Will shuddered, pushing again the plug. He could feel the hot spray of arterial blood across his back.

Hannibal scratched down Will's back. "I would have to cut his throat and take out his eyes," he confessed. "Because you, like this, in this place, belong to me and me alone." He dragged his lips down Will's back in ownership. "You would be covered in blood, shivering as it cooled. But I would drop his body and come to you, hold you and warm you again." His body covered Will's, his cock straining against his zipper. "And I would ask if you wanted me to take you now, or if you wanted to wait until we are warm and safe in our bed at home."

Almost tenderly, Hannibal's fingers unfastened the gag and eased it out of Will's mouth. Slick with saliva, it made a wet squelch when it hit the desk. "Home, please, Hannibal. Our home."

Hannibal nodded, and gently untied Will's extremities. He cradled Will to his chest, rubbing his wrists and pressing tiny kisses to his cheeks. Will's clothes were in a pile, and Hannibal ignored them in favor of a gray blanket. He v wrapped Will in the blanket, then lifted him up. "Home it is."

Will's arms emerged and wrapped around Hannibal's neck. He squirmed against the plug still inside, and smiled.

The End


	4. How Long Were You Standing There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "How long were you standing there?" for Hannigram.

"How long were you standing there?" The question is disgruntled, almost hostile, and almost inaudible over the shower. Will turned the shower off, and repeated the question. 

Hannibal was standing calmly in the midst of the dogs, hand resting almost idly on Winston's head. "You do not remember calling me, telling me where your spare key was?" 

"Uh, no, I don't, actually." Belatedly Will wrapped the towel around his waist. 

"You should have called me earlier. I would have helped you get rid of that." 

"Rid of what?" Will asked, craning his head to look over Hannibal's shoulder. 

"That." Hannibal stepped aside to show the bloody body of Jack Crawford sprawled on the bedroom floor.


	5. You Have Got To Be Kidding Me (Chillywilly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "You have got to be kidding me!" for Pairing Chillywilly, which is Frederick Chilton/Will Graham

"You have GOT to be kidding me!" Frederick skidded to a halt in front of Will Graham's cell. His cane dropped to the floor in the rush for keys, which he obviously did not have. 

It was supplied to him by the guard, and Frederick sent him to "Get some help down here, now!" 

The guard disappeared and Frederick's arms wrapped around Will's waist, trying vainly to lift the weight dangling from the ceiling. 

Only to feel the heavy wad of bedsheets around Will's waist, and the dark laughter from above. "Well, while you're down there, do something useful."


	6. Jennifer's Body AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rootingformephistopheles prompted Jennifer's Body with a Hannigram spin. Full prompt in notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rootingformephistopheles:
> 
> GODDDDDD rewatching Jennifer’s body made me want a hannigram spin on it SO BAD
> 
> Like idk the thing that made will have to quit being a cop was he got captured by some creepy cultists and ‘virgin’ sacrificed so now he’s stuck with this demon and urge to munch on human flesh but he has it down to where he only takes like one drifter a month just enough to keep himself from getting so hungry he attacks his coworkers
> 
> but then Hannibal swans into his life and feeds him protein scramble and will takes one bite and blurts out ‘it’s kinda overcooked don’t you think?’ because he prefers his meat /raw/
> 
> Smth smth other stuff happens I just did a 12 hour overnight horror movie marathon I gotta go to bed instead of fleshing this out soryyyy

Even now, a few years after the fact, he was still so hungry. 

All the time, it was an urge that gnawed on the back of his conscience. A feeling in the back of his mind, all the time, encouraging him to let go, unhinge his jaw, devour, eat, crunch, mangle, feed.

Most days it was ignored. Not easy to dismiss, but with a little work, he could tune the hunger out. Once every couple of weeks or so he placated his hunger with “rare” beefsteak; once every six weeks he allowed himself a full meal.

A human. A drifter, a homeless man with no connections; it was easy to find them. He had done community outreach when he was a cop; they knew him, chatted with him. Took his money and bought their dinners, their alcohol, their drugs. 

Took their lives. 

Being a police officer had been torment; too much fresh blood, too much meat, too much chaos. Being a teacher was much safer. He didn’t much care for veal–and most of his students were exactly that. Too young to have aged properly, it was easy most days to go through the motions without hunger interfering. 

And then he met Hannibal Lecter.

From the first, there was something about Lecter that made the demon inside Will Graham sit up and take notice. A certain darkness to the aura around him that no one else could see. He was consulting for a different department, but the break room was almost always filled with the smells of his creations. 

They made Will hungry.

One morning, sitting at his desk, everything changed. Will was priming the day’s lecture, putting slides in order on his laptop, drinking coffee one-handed when a plate of food appeared on the keyboard in front of him. “Excuse me?”

“Good morning.” The answering voice was slow and cultured, with an undertone of amusement. “I’ve noticed you seem drawn to the microwave when I heat my lunches, so I thought I might share.” 

Normally, Will would not have accepted food from a stranger, but it was so close to his feeding time, that he thought little and instinctively acted. He picked up the plate and dug his fork in, bringing a large bite to his mouth.

His teeth and tongue tasted the meal at the same time, and the demon screamed. He spat the egg and “sausage” back onto the plate, panting softly and glaring at Hannibal. “Too well done,” he growled, tongue dragging over his lips. “Raw.” 

Hannibal’s eyes widened fractionally. “I do beg your pardon,” he murmured softly. “I did not mean to overcook things. Perhaps you will allow me to make it up to you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow would be fine. Tonight, Will was going to feed.


	7. The Villain Speech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hero actually says yes to the Villain's "Join us!" speech. Full prompt in notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writingpromptsforkate:
> 
> The villain gives their customary “join me and we can be great” speech. The hero accepts.

“Will.” Hannibal’s voice was hypnotic as he pled softly. “If you could see yourself as I see you, the beauty in the darkness you’re trying so hard to hide. You and I could accomplish something glorious together, if only you were–" 

"Okay,” Will answered, holding his hands up to stem the flow of words. 

It worked. “I beg your pardon?" 

"Damn right you should,” Will answered with a grimace. You’ve been a jackass this entire time, but you make some good points.“

"I’m sorry, I don’t–" 

Will absolutely relished Hannibal’s speechlessness. "I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with trying to be a hero, because the only thanks I got was being locked in Arkham with a handsy lady psychiatrist named Quinn. Not to mention the fucking field day Freddie goddamn Lounds has with Tattle Crime if I even peek out the door for a newspaper. I’m over it.”

Hannibal looked as if he were trying to catch up with a derailed conversational train. 

“And, in case you didn’t realize it, my alter-ego government job doesn’t really pay for anything, and I can’t get benefits because of the Arkham stint. If Lecter Enterprises has a good benefit package, I’m sold.” Okay, maybe that was a bit over the top, but it had the benefit of being the truth. 

“ Er, yes, a quite comprehensive package, actually,” Hannibal allowed faintly. 

“So, let’s do it.” Off Hannibal’s completely blank look; “You don’t have any idea what to do, do you?" 

"You have caught me off-guard, yes,” was the wryly spoken answer. 

“Then, you’re buying me dinner while we talk it over together,” Will demanded. 

“As you wish."


	8. The Senator and His Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Senator Lecter and intern Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photos linked below.
> 
> allegralovelace:
> 
> someone please write me filthy af porn with older politician!Mads and high school Lolita!Will (or Lolita!Hugh)

“Senator Lecter!” 

Hannibal barely broke his stride to allow the aide to catch up with him. “Yes, Georgia?”

“SIr, your new summer intern is here, from the high school contest.” Georgia thrust a folder of paperwork at her boss. “He’s waiting in your office.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he said politely, but Hannibal’s attention was already on the folder. _Will Graham, seventeen, from J.H. Abrams high school_ , he read, skimming over the boy’s winning essay and filing it away for later contemplation. He had fairly decent grades, behaved respectably, and according to the guidance counselor the boy had an interest in _“public service, possibly the police academy,”_ which explained why he’d written an essay in the first place. 

Pushing his office door open, Hannibal tucked the file under his elbow. “Good morning, Mr. Graham,” was what he had meant to say, but he was caught unexpectedly by the boy’s eyes. He’d been watching the door, obviously waiting for someone to come in. What came out was, “Will Graham?” Because that was not a face he’d been expecting to see ever again.

Will swallowed convulsively as the senator spoke his name. He’d been watching the door, waiting for Hannibal to come through it. It felt so strange to say, “Hello, Senator Lecter,” instead of _Good evening, Daddy._ Stranger yet to be clothed, when six months ago he’d been naked and kneeling in front of this very same man. 

Hannibal closed his office door, locking it as a matter of routine, and leaned against it, the surprise barely showing. “You look well, Mr. Graham.”

“Yes, sir.” Familiar words at last, and he flashed a glance up at Hannibal through his lashes. “So do you.”


	9. Post-Coital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-secondary cuddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anythingbuttsex:
> 
> Don’t think about Will nuzzling his face into Hannibal’s forest of chest hair after they make love
> 
> Definitely don’t think about Hannibal raking his fingers through Will’s messy curls while they’re cuddling
> 
> Lastly, DO NOT think about Hannibal giving Will forehead kisses
> 
> Just don’t do it.
> 
> It will destroy you.

Breathless and utterly spent, Will collapsed onto Hannibal’s chest. His eyes closed as he felt his cock slip out of Hannibal’s body, and with it, the last of his energy and motivation. All he could do was press himself against Hannibal so that they all but shared the same skin. Breathing deep, Will nuzzled into Hannibal’s pectoral so that his nose and cheek were buried in his lover’s chest hair. It prickled and teased his nose, and it was heaven. 

For his part, Hannibal cradled this astonishing creature against him. Will was rubbing against him like a cat, gentle and trusting, while only instants before they’d both been rutting like animals. His fingers carded through the tangled mess of Will’s hair, separating each strand and curl. He could feel his heartbeats slowing, synchronizing with the rise and fall of Will’s chest against his. 

Will felt it too, and his fingers played idly with the trail of hair on Hannibal’s slightly rounded tummy. 

Suddenly overwhelmed by the rush of love that filled him, Hannibal hid his face by pressing soft, wordless kisses to Will’s forehead, lips lingering in warm whispers of unspoken worship.


	10. Never Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will plots to murder Hannibal during sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mummyholmesisupset:
> 
> Ok but like what if murder husbands when Will is riding Hannibal and he is receiving the D he describes how he’d kill Hannibal during sex.

Will’s back arched as Hannibal’s fingers slid out of his body. He sank down slowly, almost teasingly taking Hannibal’s cock inch by inch until he was fully impaled. Hannibal’s nails were dug into Will’s thighs, leaving scrapes in his wake as he reached for more.

Moving forward, Will plants his hands on Hannibal’s chest, thumbs splayed to tease pebbled nipples and coarse hair. “I’ve thought of killing you like this,” he whispered in a gravelly tone. “Just like this, riding you hard, getting you so focused on me that you don’t notice what I’m doing. “

Will’s teeth scraped along Hannibal’s cheekbone in a line of rough, sloppy kisses. “While I’m kissing you, just like this, you’re unguarded. So I kiss your face, chin, neck.”

He matched words to movement, rocking against the gentle rolling of Hannibal’s hips. “Then your neck, right side first, then, right over your jugular.”

Hannibal’s mouth had gone dry, and he licked his lips to wet them. “You would have killed me in our own bed?” he asked in a choked voice. Choked, because he could barely breathe for imagining the things Will’s voice painted while feeling Will riding him while acting them out. Too much sensation, and it threatened to overwhelm him. “What else would you do, my William?”

Hannibal got a bit of revenge when Will’s litany stuttered and hitched. He was playing dirty, using Will’s full name, which only made Will move harder. “Slide my hands around your throat, into your hair, yanking your head back.” He was grunting hard between breaths. “Keep your throat exposed, but not cut it.”

Hannibal’s hands reached for Will’s erection, stroking the hard flesh slowly, excruciatingly slowly. “And what is my ending?” he got out, mesmerized by the sinuous twist of Will’s body, the slap of skin on skin. Heat and sweat and sex was a heady scent the clouded over everything else. 

Will’s hand lifted into the air, and metal flashed when he brought it down. A thin silver chain in place of a garrote, and he clasped it around the back of Hannibal’s neck. “Choking the life out of you with a piano wire. Just enough pressure to not cut your throat until you’re coming.”

Hannibal’s orgasm had hit at once, as the briefly imagined knife pierced his chest. Instead, it was Will’s come that splattered over him instead of blood, and Will’s mouth pressed against Hannibal’s lips. “I decided I like you better alive.”

“If I had been the kill of your Becoming, you could not have given me a more beautiful gift. I would have been honored beyond all others, that you would choose my blood for your baptism. But to participate in, even precipitate, is so much more exquisite. Because now you and I are one. Forever.” His hand rose to stroke Will’s face.

“I will kill you if you leave me like you left Chiyo.”

That was not an idle threat, but there was no need for it. “I could no sooner leave you than I could leave behind my heart or lungs.”

“You do, and you won’t be needing them.”

End


	11. Hannibal Lecter is Hades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> weesprigofzest:
> 
> All of this is incredible. The deep reds and blacks. The way the angles of his face are accentuated. His expression of mild displeasure.
> 
> But the POMEGRANATES. I MEAN. COME ON. Not only are they the sexiest fruit (it’s a science fact, look it up), they are also deeply meaningful. The seeds, hidden within the flesh, contains sticky red juice that stains whatever it comes into contact with. Many cultures view it as symbolic of both life, procreation and fertility, and also of death. In the myth of Persephone and Hades, they represent her lost innocence and the dark bargain that keeps her returning to him, year after year. To borrow from the show, it smacks of “demonic sexuality”.
> 
> Basically, what I am saying is that this photoshoot is hotter than hell and, if that motherfucker was Hades, I would eat as many pomegranate seeds as he wanted, right out of his fucking hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (photos by Kenneth Willardt)

The knife cut through the pomegranates with a thick, wet noise that almost sounded like flesh. The skin split open, juice welling like blood along the line of the cut. Plump, succulent meaty fruit cushioned clusters of black seeds.

Hannibal used the knife’s tip to carve out a cluster and the fruit it was attached to, and held it out with a flick of his wrist in offering. 

Will dipped his head, tongue snaking out to suck the seeds from the knife. He licked the small trail of juice, leaving behind a thin trace of blood as it mingled with the seeds in his mouth.

They were delicious, and he deliberately licked his lips to stain them deep, dark red. Hannibal leaned across the counter, tasting the juice on Will’s lips. Claiming a dark prince, perhaps, to ascend the thrones of hell together.

(via existingcharactersdiehorribly)


End file.
